The Lost Office
by Uncommon Pen
Summary: Michael offers to take the employee of the month to Hawaii for the weekend. Jim and Dwight tie, so Michael has to take them both. Between playful jokes and window seat-swapping, things take a turn for the worst as the plane starts to go down. -plz review-
1. Office

Micheal sat in his office after giving the announcement.

"Whoever wins employee of the month will get to go to Hawaii!" He had said, throwing out his arms dramatically. Smiles lit up the room as his employees tried to imagine it.

"Do we get to bring someone with us?" Stanley had asked in a bored tone.

"Well, I did get two tickets..." Micheal had said, glancing down at the folder in his hand. "But one of them is for me, so..."

Groans had filled the office. No one wanted to go on a trip with Michael. Well, almost no one.

"I'll go with you, Michael!" Dwight had burst out, standing up and raising his hand like a school girl.

"Well, you can't just say you want to go, you have to win!" Michael had told him.

Jim had swirled his chair around and raised his eyebrows at Pam. She had grinned back.

"I'll beat Dwight, Michael." Jim had said boldly, standing up. Pam had beamed at him. "I will go with you to Hawaii."

Michael's face had lit up excitedly.

Dwight had gave Jim a dirty look, them stared at Michael helplessly. "No, Michael! I will beat Jim, and we can go to Hawaii together!"

Michael's smile had lost its authenticity. "Okay..." He had muttered, then turned away and went into his office, shutting the door behind him.

Now Michael sat in his office. Turning to the camera-man, he grinned and said,

"Let the battle begin!"

Outside his door, Jim sat back down and swirled back around to his computer. Dwight remained standing, leaning over and breathing on the back of Jim's neck.

"I will defeat you, Jim Halpert." He hissed wickedly. "If anyone is going on a trip with Michael, it's going to be me." Dwight lingered wordlessly for a moment before straightening up and going to his own desk.

Jim looked over at Pam, who pretended to slit her throat. They grinned at each other, and Jim turned back to his desk and picked up the phone as it began to ring.

"Dunder Mifflin, Paper Company. Jim Halpert speaking. How can I help you?" He recited. As he wrote down orders and filled out paperwork, Jim did his best to ignore Dwight, though it was obvious he was staring.

A few weeks later, the month was up. Everyone turned in their files and reports and added up the totals, whether they wanted to go on the trip or not. Michael sat them all down in the conference room, the results in his hands.

"Okay, I have the winner right here." He held up the folder. "And whoever it is, will get to come with me to Hawaii!"

Everyone clapped. In the back of the room, Kelly was chatting with Ryan, saying how unfair it was that there was only one ticket.

"I would have worked, like, so hard if it had been two tickets, you know what I mean? Then we could've both gone." She said in a dreamy voice.

"Yeah. It's a shame." Ryan said with a sigh. Kelly grabbed onto his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. Ryan rubbed his forehead.

"Hey hey, attention!" Michael slapped the table. "Okay, the winner is..." Michael opened the folder and stared into it. The glitters vanished from his eyes. "Oh, God, no." He muttered, turning the page.

"Hey!" Philis cried.

"Dude!" Kevin sat up.

"That's not fair!" Kelly squealed. She jerked on Ryan's arm. "Ryan, tell him that's not fair!"

Ryan said nothing, staring off into the distance.

"Michael, who was it?" Oscar demanded.

"No one. It was a mess up." Michael snapped. "Okay, the real winner is..." Michael frowned. "Well, it's a tie!" He grinned, looking up.

The room was silent. Jim glanced at Pam, who shrugged.

"Jim and Dwight." Michael said.

A couple people clapped, and everyone stood up, ready to leave since they didn't win.

Dwight stood up. "So how do we settle this? Fist fight? Arm wrestling? Fencing?" He asked quickly, staring at Michael with complete seriousness.

Angela looked down and rubbed her nose to hide her smile.

"No, uh..." Michael glanced at the folder, then stood up. "We can all go. I'll just have to buy another ticket, that's all."

"Or," Jim put in, standing up, too. "You could buy the extra ticket, and you could just take Pam and me."

"No, that would't work..." Michael mumbled. "She didn't win..."

"I don't want Jim to come with us, Michael." Dwight said darkly.

"Then you can stay behind, how's that?" Michael said suddenly, staring at Dwight.

Dwight didn't know what to say. The conference room slowly emptied. As he left, Kevin flipped open the top of the folder to read the name inside. He snorted and shook his head, and went back to his desk.

"So who really won?" Philis asked Kevin, standing by his desk.

"Toby," Kevin chuckled. Philis sighed and went back to work.

"We leave Friday, people! I suggest you buy some swim shorts." Michael exclaimed, walking across the room, going back into his office. He shut the door behind him.

Jim made a bee-line for Pam's desk.

"Congratulations." She told him.

"Look, I wasn't even trying, okay? I don't even know if I want to go..." Jim said regrettably.

"No, you should go. Who knows? It might actually be fun." She said, smiling sweetly.

"Yeah? I don't know..." He drummed his fingers on the desk. "I'll have to think about it."

Jim sat at his desk, and Dwight glared at him.

"What?" Jim demanded, turning sharply to look at Dwight.

Dwight flinched, but recovered quickly. He turned away and started typing random stuff onto his computer to look like he was working.

Jim shook his head and dialed a potential customer's phone number.

Friday rolled around. Everyone showed up to work. Michael said the flight didn't leave until 2:35pm, so they had awhile to relax until then.

Jim spent most of the day at Pam's desk, saying he wished they could go together. Pam kept telling him to go, have fun. She didn't really want to go, anyway.

Michael sat in his office, playing with a paper airplane, when he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in!" He said, aiming for the door.

The door opened and Michael threw the plane. It brushed right beside Toby's head as he walked in. Toby flinched and glanced behind him at the plane that was sailing across the office.

"Michael, can I talk to you for a minute?" He asked, coming in and shutting the door.

Michael frowned with disappointment. "Fine. What?" He glanced at his watch.

"Michael," Toby came over and sat down in the chair opposite of Michael. "I saw the folder."

"Agh," Michael shook his head. "So that's what this is about. God!"

"Don't, I... I'm not here to yell at you. I just think... I have a right to know why."

"Why what?" Michael grunted.

"Why you don't like me." Toby said, scratching his ear.

Michael shook his head. "I can't do this right now, Toby. I'm trying to relax, I'm nervous about flying, and you just come in here, and ruin my day!" He slapped his knees. "Please, just get out. We'll talk about this some other time."

Toby stood up. "When you get back, or...?"

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, just..." Michael flapped his hand until Toby left. The door clicked shut. "What a jerk." He scowled at the camera.


	2. Plane

At 1:00pm Michael grabbed Jim and Dwight and headed to the airport. Jim barely had enough time to say goodbye to Pam. Dwight offered to drive, but Michael wouldn't allow it.

"No, no...company policy, or something..." He had said.

At the airport, they got their carry-on bags checked and they went through the metal detectors without a problem.

"Here we go!" Michael said excitedly as they approached their gate. Jim and Dwight sat down on either side of Michael as they waited for their plane to be called for boarding. Michael remained up-beat and full of energy for almost two hours, until their plane was ready for boarding.

"Come on, Michael, that's us." Jim said, standing up and grabbing his bags. Dwight stood up and stared down at Michael, who was just sitting there.

"Michael, are you all right?" He asked with concern.

"...I have to go to the bathroom," Michael said shyly, ducking his head like a bad dog.

"We can do it on the plane," Jim told him.

"That's what she said," Michael giggled.

"Flight 42B to Hawaii is now boarding," The intercom said.

"Michael!" Jim and Dwight said at the same time.

"I'm coming, geeze!" Michael stood up. "Crazy honey-mooners." He walked past them to the gate, flapping his ticket at the lady. "Hello! I'm Michael Scott, ready for boarding!"

The lady glanced at his ticket, ripped it in half, and handed it back. "Have a nice flight, Mr. Scott." She told him tonelessly.

"Oh," Michael laughed. "Please, just call me Michael."

The lady rolled her eyes. "Next,"

Eventually they made it on the plane and found their seats. Dwight stared around at the other passengers, and his eyes widened all of a sudden.

"Michael!" He whispered loudly.

"What?" Michael asked as he shoved his bag into the over-head compartment.

"Nevermind." Dwight said darkly. "I'll take care of it." He walked off down the aisle.

"Okey-dokey," Michael said, sitting down in his seat.

"Dwight," Jim stared after him, confused.

Dwight walked up to an Indian man with a long, dark beard. The man was struggling to put his bag into the compartment.

"Excuse me, sir, I think that's my bag." Dwight said, snatching it out of the man's hands. He jerked back the zipper and dug around inside, before tossing it back. "Oops, my mistake." The man stood there and looked down at his bag as if it were a dead body. Dwight went back to his seat. "It's okay, he was clean." He said triumphantly.

Jim shook his head and sat down next to Dwight on the end. Michael sat by the window, with Dwight beisde him, and Jim beside Dwight. Michael gazed out the window. Dwight leaned over Michael and stared out the window, his face inches from Michael's.

"There's going to be a storm," Dwight said.

Michael flinched. "Will you scoot over?" He snapped. "I don't want you breathing on me."

Dwight sat back. Jim looked down the aisle at the flight attendant as she stood in the front of the plane. She pointed out the exits, the oxygen masks, the bathrooms, and as the Fasten Seatbelt light came on, she told everyone how to put it on. Soon she was finished with her speech, and the passengers began buckling up. Michael fidgeted uncomfortably, fingering his seatbelt.

"Aren't you going to buckle up?" Dwight asked him.

"I still have to pee," He whispered.

"Sir, buckle up, please." The flight attendant said, suddenly standing beisde Jim, staring at Michael.

"You're not buckled," He retorted.

"Sir-"

"Michael!" Jim hissed.

"Fine! Okay!" Michael buckled up. "There." He scowled at the attendant until she walked away.

The plane gathered speed, and Dwight leaned over Michael again and stared out the window.

"Look, Michael, we're lifting off!" Dwight announced.

"Oh, God..." Michael groaned and looked away. The G-force shoved them back in their seats. "Ah!" Michael winced as his ears began to pop.

Jim leaned back with his eyes closed, looking calm, though his heart was racing. Soon the plane settled down and straightened up. The Fasten Seatbelt signal dissappeared, and the flight attendant announced it.

"Okay, okay," Michael unbuckled and stood up. "Move." He gestured for Dwight and Jim to move, so they did. Michael wobbled as he walked to the bathroom, grabbing onto random head-rests for support, aggrivating a few people. Jim sat back down, and Dwight took Michael's seat by the window.

"I knew it. Look at the clouds up ahead. They're getting dark." Dwight told Jim.

"Okay." Jim said absently, pulling out his cell phone.

"Hey, you're not supposed to use cell phones on the plane!" Dwight snapped.

"Will you calm down? There's no signal, anyway." Jim sighed, thinking of Pam.

After a few minutes, Michael came back. "Wow," He said. "Those bathrooms are tiny!" Jim stood up to let Michael by. Dwight stared out the window. Michael frowned at Dwight.

Dwight looked at him. "What?"

"That's my seat," Michael said.

"Oh come on, Michael. Let me have the window, please?" Dwight begged.

"No, Dwight! I paid extra for that seat, so move it."

Jim glanced at Michael suspiciously, and Michael shook his head half an inch.

"Fine," Dwight sighed and moved down.

"Thankyou," Michael said, taking his seat by the window. Jim played with a barf bag. Michael stared out the window.

"We sure are going fast."

"We have to maintain a constant speed, that way we won't drop out of the sky." Dwight commented.

"Great, Dwight..." Michael muttered, glancing at the floor. He looked back out the window. The happy white puffs of clouds were turning darker by the minute. The light blue sky was slowly being blotted out as the plane rose higher into the thickness. "Looks like it might rain..." He said anxiously.

Dwight smirked at Jim, who ignored him. After half an hour of boredom, Michael flagged the flight attendant down and asked for a pillow. Dwight hurridly said he wanted one, too. Jim merely shook his head.

"We should be there in a few hours." He told them once the lady walked away.

"So? It's still nice to take a nap every now and then." Michael said happily.

"Yeah!" Dwight snorted.

The lady came back with their pillows, and after about ten minutes, Dwight and Michael were both snoring. Dwight fell over onto Michael's shoulder, and Jim peered over and wrinkled his nose as he saw the puddle of drool soaking into Michael's shirt. He leaned back against his seat and sighed. The plane started to rock with sudden turbulence, and the Fasten Seatbelt light came on. Jim buckled up, and elbowed Dwight and told him to do the same. Dwight yawned and buckled up, then flopped down against Michael. Michael flinched and sat up sharply.

"Huh?" He blinked rapidly, then looked down at Dwight in his lap. "Get off me!" He shoved Dwight away, and Dwight sat up, looking like he was having a terrible hangover as his head bobbed and his eyes became blood-shot.

"Hey," Jim looked over at Michael as the plane rattled and shook. "You need to buckle up."

Michael glanced at the Fasten Seatbelt light and quickly buckled his seatbelt. He sat still for a moment before yawning loudly and stretching his arms above his head, touching the ceiling.

"That was a good nap." He said cheerfully. He looked out the window and his eyes widened in terror. "God, look at those storm clouds." He whispered in fear.

Jim leaned across Dwight and looked out the window, coldness filling his stomach.

"Yeah," he commented lightly. "It's probably gonna rain."

"That's what I keep sayin'," Dwight yawned.

The plane shook violently, and the noise lingered in the air like thunder. Jim leaned back in his seat and grasped the armrests, wishing he had never accepted the ticket. Michael cursed and shut the blinds on his window.

"I can't look at that anymore," He muttered. Suddenly, the plane rocked to the side, and a few passengers screamed as the lights flickered on and off. The sky outside was a whirling black mass of clouds, streaked with the harsh glare of lightning every other second.

"Oh my God," Jim sputtered, his knuckles white on the armrests. The plane continued to shake, the noise growing louder and louder. Babies and little kids began to wail in terror. Dwight yelled above it all.

"It's okay, people! It's just turbulence!"

The voice on the intercom was lost among the screams as the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling. Jim's eyes were squeezed shut, his whole body tense against the seat. Dwight helped Michael put on his mask.

"Jim!" He clapped in Jim's face.

Jim opened his eyes and they grew wide as they saw the oxygen masks hanging around him.

"Jim, put on the mask!" Dwight urged. Jim reached out shakily and pulled the mask over his face, staring at Dwight with a hopeless expression.

Michael looked over at Dwight. "Are you sure it'll stop soon?" He yelled.

"Positive! We can easily out-run a storm. It'll be over in no time!" Dwight hollered back.

Michael nodded gulibly and tried to relax. Jim closed his eyes once more, shaking his head and breathing heavily. Dwight was enjoying every minute of it, convinced that everyone's terror was for no reason. Until the plane started to rocket down to the ocean.


	3. Island

Jack and Kate stood on the beach watching Jin and Sun attempt to catch some fish. Jin and Sun were yelling at each other in Korean, blaming each other every time a fish got away or they got the net caught on some rocks. Jack chuckled at them and Kate punched Jack lightly.

"Why don't you go help them, Jack?" She said playfully. "You seem to be the expert at everything."

"Nah, it's okay. They're having fun." Jack said. Kate rolled her eyes and started walking away. Jack smiled and gazed out at the water, squinting at the storm clouds rolling in.

"Hey," Jack called to Jin and Sun. "It's going to rain soon; you might want to hurry up." He grinned and walked away quickly as Jin cussed him out in Korean.

Jack looked around. "Hurley," He called.

"Yeah dude?" Hurley walked over, since he wasn't doing anything anyway.

"Help me with the tarps. It's about to rain." Jack told him.

"Sure."

They adjusted the tarps over their stick-hutts and made them water-proof, then Hurley went off to get firewood and Jack walked over to Sawyer, who was sitting down against a tree, eating a mango.

"Hey," Jack smiled amiably.

"'Sup Doc," Saywer replied. He slurped on a juicy piece of fruit before shoving it in his mouth.

Jack looked away, smiling. "Nothin'."

"Want some mango?" Sawyer offered it to Jack.

"No thanks." Jack looked at him. "I was wondering if..." Jack frowned.

Sawyer dropped his mango, his eyes huge. "What the hell...?"

"What?" Jack demanded.

Sawyer jumped up and ran past Jack. "Hey!" He screamed, running across the beach, waving his arms.

Jack turned around and looked. A plane was flying overhead, but something was wrong.

"No..." He whispered.

Yes.

The plane howled through the air, its nose pointed straight for the sea.

Sawyer dropped his arms and watched in horror. Jin and Sun straightened up and stared. Every one on the beach watched the plane with breathless anticipation. Claire hugged onto her baby, and Charlie hugged onto Claire. Kate walked over and stood beside Jack. Wordlessly, their hands found each other. Hurley came out from the woods with an armful of firewood, but he dropped it all as soon as he saw the plane.

With a roar and a giant splash, the plane exploded on impact as it plummeted into the water.

Instinct kicked in. The men surged forward at once, kicking up sand as they ran across the beach and into the water.

"Jack!" Kate yelled. But it was no good.

Jin swam away from Sun, Jack away from Kate, Charlie away from Claire, Michael away from Walt, and Boone away from Shannon. John Locke, Sayid, and Sawyer swam out as well, all of them floundering their way to the smoking plane. Hurley stood knee-deep in water, knowing he couldn't swim that far. They made it to the plane, and climbed in through some busted windows, dissappearing from sight.

Walt stood beside Hurley, and Hurley looked down at him. "Don't worry, dude. Your dad's gonna be fine."

"What about the other people?" He asked softly, gazing at the plane.

Hurley looked back at the water. "They'll find them if they're alive."

**(Will Be Continued Based On Reviews)**


	4. Crash

"Michael!" Dwight shouted above the roar of the plane, the rushing of water, and the moans of the suffering. He jerked off his seatbelt and shook Michael, trying to wake him. The windows were all busted, and water was flowing in quickly. The water was up to their chests. Dwight tried to unbuckle Michael's belt, but it was stuck. "Michael!" He yelled again. Blood oozed down Michael's forehead, and he groaned and opened his eyes.

"Dwight?" He muttered weakly. "What happened?"

"The plane went down. We gotta get out of here- the plane's sinking!" Dwight rushed out, looking up and down the aisle.

They were soaked in freezing water, the plane was dark, yet light filtered in from the busted windows, showing that hope was right outside. Suddenly, people started slipping down in from the windows, swimming over to passengers and helping them get out of their seats.

"This one's pretty bad over here, Doc!" Said one man, staring down at a mother who was slumped over in her seat with her head cracked open. Her child sat beside her, awake and alert, watching the man with a dark, silent fierceness. He held onto his mother's hand, his little fingers white and shaking.

Dwight ignored them, focusing on getting Michael out of his seat. He did at last, and Michael floudered in the water for a moment before standing on his seat.

"Jim!" Michael said, looking down at Jim. "Dwight, check on Jim. He's not moving."

Dwight swam over and unbuckled Jim's belt easily, then shook him by the shoulders.

"Jim!" He called in is face. "Wake up, Jim!"

Jim just sagged in his arms, limp and heavy with water.

The water was now at the top of the seats, covering the head rests.

The other people that came in the plane began swimming back out the windows, pulling unconscious passengers with them.

"We gotta get out of here!" Michael yelled.

Together they drug Jim to the windows and shoved him out, then Dwight swam after him and pulled him to the surface. Michael took a deep, shaking breath, and followed seconds later. At the surface, Dwight began kicking his way to the beach, struggling to keep Jim's head above the water. Michael dog paddled after him, afraid all of a sudden of being left alone. He was surprised to see the men that had helped other people get out of the plane swimming back for more.

"We need to hurry, Sawyer!" One man told another as they swam past Michael.

"I know!" The other replied sharply. Soon all the men dissappeared under the water as they headed to the plane. Michael swam to shore. Dwight met him in the water and helped him onto the beach. Passengers were strewn all over the beach, coughing, crying, hugging each other. Jim was laying down on his back with another man giving him CPR. Michael stumbled across the sand and stared down at Jim.

"Is he gonna be ok?" He asked in a soft voice.

"I don't know, maybe. Could you back up, please?" The man doing CPR asked roughly.

"Yeah, yeah..." Michael took half a step back, watching with wide eyes. Dwight stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. They didn't speak.

Around them, men were dragging the rest of the passengers onto shore, with women rushing over to help them. Michael watched them for a moment as they carried bleeding children out of the sea and laid them in the sand. He felt a cold lump form in his stomach, and he turned away to look at Jim, who suddenly began to cough. The man sat up and helped Jim sit up as well.

"Easy, easy." The man said.

Jim gagged and spat out water, them coughed some more.

"Jack!" A woman called. The man looked up, glanced at Michael, then stood up and ran away.

Michael squatted down beside Jim. "Hey," He said. "You ok?"

Jim looked at Michael with watery red eyes. Then he nodded and spat in the sand.

"Yeah." He said weakly. He stared off into the distance, and Michael followed his gaze. All that remained of the plane was the tail, which stook up out of the water as it slowly sank into the sea. Four men were swimming away, dragging three people with them to the shore.

"Are you guys ok?" He asked, looking at Michael and Dwight.

"Oh yeah, just a little shaken up, that's all." Michael grinned sheepishly. Dwight looked away at the shabby little huts and shelters. Jim looked, too.

"It's almost like they're living on the beach." Jim said curiously.

Michael and Jim stood up and watched the other people.

"Maybe they're doing some kind of survival test." Michael said after a moment.

Jim said nothing, his eyes widening as he saw what their shelters were made of. Plane parts.

"What if they crashed here, too?" Jim said, almost hysterically. "And no one has found them, yet?"

"Jim, don't be ridiculous." Michael grunted.

"Yeah, Jim. This is probably just some little island in Hawaii. It's all a set-up for tourists." Dwight snorted.

Meanwhile, let's just say that everybody else on the plane died because they're not important, and I don't feel like talking about fifty separate lives at once. _Jacob_ didn't want them, how's that?

Charlie went over to Claire, dripping wet and crestfallen.

"We couldn't save them," He said saddly in response to her questioning look.

"It's not your fault, Charlie." Claire said softly. Charlie nodded numbly but said nothing. She hugged him.

Jack stood up, covered in blood, eyes red. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, looking down at the child that drowned on the way to the shore. He couldn't save him. He couldn't save anyone. He shook his head in disgust at himself and turned away, looking down the beach at the bodies that waited to be put in graves. His heart lifted slightly when he saw the three men he did manage to save. Kate walked over and stood in front of Jack, staring into his eyes.

"Are those the only ones?" She asked gently.

Jack nodded and looked down, sighing heavily.

As Boone and Sayid walked out of the sea, Shannon didn't know who to cast her bedroom eyes on. They were both dripping wet and gorgeous, and her face lit up with smiles at the sight of them. Sayid gazed at her for a moment before walking on by. Boone didn't even look at her. He went inside their little hut, coming out seconds later with a water bottle. He looked at Shannon as he gulped down water. The glitters left her eyes and she sighed, looking at the beach. She surveyed the three new people, but it was hard to judge their attractiveness from such a distance.

Walt sat by the fire, avoiding his father's eyes. Michael didn't know what to say. He was tired of telling his son that it wasn't his fault that those people were dead; he had done all he could. But Walt wouldn't listen, so Michael was angry. They gave each other the silent treatment, and that was that.

John made his way across the beach, eager to meet the new survivors.


	5. Stuck

Michael grinned at John Locke as he came over.

"Hi, I'm Michael Scott." He said, sticking out his hand as soon as John was close enough to shake it.

John smiled easily. "Nice to meet you, I'm John. John Locke." They shook hands.

"Dwight Schrute." Dwight stepped up beside Michael and offered his hand to John.

John shook his hand. "Hi."

Jim glanced around and then forced a smile. "I'm Jim," He shook John's hand. "Is there a phone I can borrow?"

John smiled grimly. "I'm sorry, no. We don't have electricity."

"Well, is there a town nearby? He's got a girlfriend he needs to keep tabs on." Michael said cheekily.

"Nope. I'm afraid there's nobody here, except us on the beach." John said with a sigh.

"You mean you're stuck here?" Jim demanded.

Jim and Michael exchanged looks of horror. Dwight's face stretched into a wicked smile.

"So far..." John shrugged. "Yes."

"How long have you been here?" Jim asked.

"Oh, a couple months." John replied.

"Damn it," Jim turned away, trembling with anger and fear.

"Have there been any hurricanes lately?" Dwight asked.

"Um..." John hesitated.

"Every few months, especially in the tropics, there should always be a hurricane." Dwight exclaimed. "You guys must be way over-due..." Dwight turned to look at the skies where dark, swirling rain clouds were gathering.

Jack ran over as if there was something important that had to be said right then.

"Hey, John. Want to help me drag some of the plane parts out of the water?" He asked breathlessly.

"Ok," John said, smiling at Jack. He winked at Michael. "Gotta go. Nice meeting you fellows." He followed Jack into the shallow waters and they began pulling sheets of plane metal out of the water.

Jim walked away, headed to the shelters.

"Jim?" Michael was concerned.

"I'm fine," Jim called shortly.

Dwight stood beside Michael. He sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "What's his problem?" He grunted.

Charlie was opening a box of Dharma crackers, sitting next to Claire. Claire was watching Charlie hungrily, smiling as he struggled. They both looked up, startled, when Jim came over.

"So you have food?" Jim asked wearily.

Charlie glanced at Claire. "You want some, man?" He asked, holding out the box of crackers.

"No, thanks," Jim sighed.

Charlie opened the box and handed it to Claire, then he stood up.

"I'm Charlie," He said, smiling amiably.

"Jim." Jim looked at Charlie and nodded slightly.

Charlie pointed at Claire. "She's-"

"I'm Claire!" Claire burst out, holding a hand over her mouth, which was full of cheesy orange crackers.

"Hi," Jim smiled at the pregnate lady, wondering vaugly why she was so cheerful. Then he realized that she and Charlie were a couple, and his heart sank as he thought about Pam. "So when are we getting rescued?" He asked bitterly.

"Who knows, man." Charlie said sadly. "We've been here for months now, and haven't seen one plane fly over this island."

"Great," Jim sighed heavily and walked away, feeling trapped and restless.

Jack and John built a shelter out of the plane parts, stringing them together with rope and vines into a miniature house. They strung it between two trees to keep in stable, then, proud of themselves, they walked over to Michael and Dwight, dusting their sandy hands off on their pants.

"Hey," Jack said, placing his hands on his hips. "I'm Jack. Just thought I'd let you know, that me and John, here," He gestured to John, who was standing right beside him. "Made you guys a shelter. Hope you don't mind sleeping together for a night or two."

Dwight beamed at Michael. "It's like the camping trip you promised me two years ago!" He said happily.

Michael grimace and waved at Dwight to back away. "Thanks. I'm Michael Scott, by the way."

"Yeah, I know." Jack said snobbishly.

"If you boys are hungry, there's some food under that gray tarp over there." John Locke said officially. "Just try not to eat unless you're very hungry, because that's all we have right now."

"Ok, great." Michael Scott made a bee-line for the food, and Dwight went over to inspect their new living quarters.

Jim sat down on a log by the fire with Hugo, Michael, and Walt. He stared into the fire wordlessly, burdened by his thoughts. Walt kept staring at him, and Michael kept hissing at Walt to stop staring, so Walt stared more. Hugo glanced at Michael and Walt, then looked at Jim.

"Hey," Hugo said. "I'm Hurley."

"Jim," Jim shook Hurley's hand emotionlessly.

"What's your story, dude?" Hurley asked.

"What?" Jim looked at him, confused.

"Why are you so bummed out?"

Jim frowned. "I just crashed on an island! No one has flown over this island in months- I'm probably gonna die here, and I was going to ask Pam to marry me next week!" He said hotly.

"Who's Pam?" Walt asked stupidly.

Jim looked at the little black boy. "She's my girlfriend." He said defeatedly.

"Dude, that sucks. But you know, we all had lives before we came here. Maybe not good ones, but we all had to give up something. It's not easy, but you'll get used to it." Hugo said convincingly.

"Get used to it?" Jim repeated. "What, you don't want to leave this place? You want to live here, is that it?"

"Well... the weather's always nice, and the sunsets are pretty awesome..." Hurley shifted nervously.

"Seriously?" Jim stared at him, then stood up. "I guess I speak for myself, but I want to go home!" He walked away quickly, scanning the unfamiliar faces until he found Michael and Dwight.

He went over. "Hey." He said tiredly.

Michael looked up. "Hey Jim, want some Honey-nut Dharma-Os?" He held up a black and white box of cereal. Dwight glanced up at Jim before looking back at the bag of Dharma chips in his lap.

Jim hesitated. "Sure." He sat down with them and, together, they "used up" nearly one-forth of the food rations and didn't think twice about it.


	6. Weather

That night, it stormed.

Everyone on the beach was fine with it- just about everyone had someone to snuggle up next to for comfort.

Minus three.

Michael, Jim, and Dwight laid on a noisy, thin tarp, huddled under rattling sheets of metal. The wind shook their rough shelter, opening up cracks and letting in torrents of rain. They were cold, wet, and uncomfortable, and just plain scared shit-less.

"Michael!" Dwight bellowed over the howling wind.

"What? What? I'm right here, you don't have to yell, Dwight, Geez." Michael grunted, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Michael, I don't think this shelter is really sheltering us!" Dwight said loudly. "Metal attracts lightning. Have you ever heard of a lightning rod, Michael?"

"Yes, Dwight. I know what a lightning rod is." Michael glanced around anxiously.

"You know lightning can-"

"Michael, can you pass the potatoes please?" Jim interupted suddenly.

Michael stared at Jim, confused. He wasn't sure what he just heard.

"Jim, there aren't any potatoes!" Dwight scoffed at him.

"Oh..." Jim looked down, wrinkling his face in confusion. "I...I could've sworn..."

Dwight gasped in horror.

"Jim, are you o-"

"Don't touch him, Michael!" Dwight snapped, smacking Michael's hand away from Jim's shoulder.

"What?" Michael blinked at Dwight.

Dwight boggled his eyes at Jim. "He's going mad!"

Jim rolled his eyes and gaped his mouth open, drooling, staring cross-eyed at Dwight. Dwight stared back, his eyes huge. Suddenly Jim shut his mouth and looked perfectly normal. Except he was giving Dwight bedroom eyes.

"Goodmorning, Pam." Jim said sweetly.

"Jim..." Dwight said warningly.

"Jim!" Michael leaned forward. "Jim, look at me. That is_ not _Pam!"

Jim looked over at Michael. "Michael! Why are you in my bedroom?" He demanded.

"I..." Michael glanced around, suddenly unsure where he was. "I'm not." He realized. "We're in a tent, on an island. Our plane crashed, remember?" He stared at Jim helplessly.

"I...I'm so confused..." Jim rubbed his head and blinked quickly.

"It's ok, Jim. We're here." Michael said softly, patting Jim on the leg.

Dwight glanced at Jim and Michael jealously. "Yeah, Jim. Both of us." He put his arm around Michael's shoulder. Michael shifted away from Dwight awkwardly.

Michael and Dwight began discribing the events leading up to the crash, interupting each other and adding random bits that the other forgot. After a few minutes, Jim got bored with that and laid down to go to sleep, after telling Dwight, "Goodnight, Pam."

Soon they were asleep. The storm raged on through the night, but they slept through it the worst of it.

By morning, the three new islanders were stiff, itchy, and wet. They crawled out of their make-shift tent and shielded their eyes from the morning sun, reflecting harshly off the ocean and the sand.

Jin and Sun were out on the shore, collecting oysters and small fish that had washed up during the night.

Sawyer watched the new-comers from a distance, studying them, judging them. He all ready didn't like them. He leaned up against a tree and began reading a soggy copy of 'Twilight' that he found on the beach early that morning. So far, he didn't like Bella at all. Sawyer hated clingy, needy women.

Jack put on a happy face and began bobbing his head like a rooster as he strolled across the beach to say "Goodmorning!" to the three amigos.

Jim glanced over at Jack and winced as he saw him coming over.

"It's that guy again. Jack." Jim whispered to Michael.

"Great." Michael muttered under his breath. He grinned like a monkey and waited for the inevitable.

Dwight squinted up at the sun.

"It sure is early!" He half-shouted. "You can tell by the angle of the sun in accordance to the ocean!" He said confidantly.

"Just look at your watch, Dwight." Michael sighed, gritting his teeth together to keep his smile on.

Jack walked over, beaming joyfully for no apparent reason.

But then, all of a sudden, something shook the ground, and a piercing roar bellowed out from the jungle. A whirling, throbbing, clicking-sound filled the air, and the passengers of Flight 815 began to scream.

**(Ok guys. To you few happy people who are eagerly reading these chapters, I'll admit something to you: I don't have a plan for what happens next. If you're willing to, send me a message or post a review and give me some ideas for what I should make happen! I would really appreciate it. If nobody sends me anything, I'll still write more chapters, but it might take awhile if I don't have any ideas. Thanks for reading this far! Woohoo!)**


	7. Rules

"What is that, a tornado siren?" Jim yelled over the strange noise.

"Yeah right, Jim. Have you ever heard a tornado siren_ roar_?" Dwight scoffed.

"HIDE!" Jack screamed, running away.

Michael dove back into their metal hut, and Dwight scurried in after him. Jim hesitated, looking around the beach at everyone else. Quickly, people were diving under cover and disppearing from view. Jim stared at the jungle, and his eyes grew wide as he saw the trees bending over and shaking like grass in the wind.

"Jim!" Michael hissed.

Jim snapped out of it and joined Michael and Dwight in the shelter.

After a few long moments, the noise faded away with much clicking and humming. Slowly, the plane-crash survivors reappeared on the beach, looking like nervous rabbits.

"Is everyone here?"

"Did it take anyone?" People began to whisper.

"Is everyone still here?" Jack hollered loudly.

Everyone looked around and muttered that everyone was indeed still there.

"What was that?" Jim walked up to Jack.

Jack glanced over at Jim, his tight-ass face pinching up with irritation. "We don't know," He said shortly.

Jim looked at the jungle, confused.

"Is it a dinosaur?" Michael asked Jack.

Jack frowned at Michael. "No. We don't know what it is, okay?"

"Then how can you be sure it's not a dinosaur?" Jim asked sarcastically.

"Jim, dinosaurs are extinct." Dwight grunted.

"Yeah, Dwight?" Jim turned on him. "Have you ever seen Jurassic Park?"

Dwight's eyes grew huge. "We have to split up into groups!" He blurted out. "The women and children in one, and the men in the other. The dinosaurs always go for the weaker prey first."

Jim surpressed a smile.

"Everyone! We have to separate before the T-Rex comes back!" Dwight yelled to the confused beach dwellers. "Women and children, you stand on that side of the beach, and men-"

"Stop it!" Jack snapped. "We're not separating!"

"Dwight, shut up." Michael whispered to Dwight, embarressed.

"Hey!" Jim whirled on Michael. "Don't you talk to my girlfriend that way!"

"What?" Michael blinked.

"Listen up!" Jack interupted them.

All the frightened faces turned to Jack.

"It was probably just checking us out, seeing who the new people were. I don't think it wants to hurt anyone. As long as we stay out of the jungle, I don't think it will attack us." Jack nodded to himself as he spoke. "All right?"

Everyone murmered and nodded in agreement, and gradually they scattered back to their boring beach lives.

Hurley went to collect driftwood from the shores. Jin and Sun went back to gather oysters. Charlie went on a food drive, raiding the food rations for Claire's spiking pregnant hormones. Jack went back to bothering Sawyer and awkwardly flirting with Kate. John and Boone talked in low voices at the edge of the jungle, trying to devise some sort of plan to leave without being noticed. Shannon tip-toed after Sayid as he went to fill an empty water bottle. Boring Rose twiddled her thumbs and prayed for her boring husband who was still missing in action along with the whole tail section of the plane. Anyone else I may have forgotten was doing some equally uninteresting task that would take too long to write out.

Michael and Dwight and Jim stood on the beach. It was a warm, sunny day. Since obviously that commotion in the jungle was nothing to worry about, why should they worry? Nobody else seemed scared anymore.

But Jim, Michael and Dwight were thinking the same thought. The Jack-ass said the jungle wasn't safe. Nobody said anything about the ocean. They jerked off their shoes and shirts and kicked up sand behind them as they raced across the beach to the shore. Sun waved her fist and Jin cussed at them in Korean for throwing sand in their faces.

But they ignored them, laughing and pushing each other until all three of them tackled each other into the water. They splashed and kicked and wrestled with one another, enjoying the salty cold water on such a hot morning.

While they were playing, John and Boone glanced around like robbers before sneaking away into the jungle. Nobody noticed except Dwight, who, as he burst out of the water, gasping for breath, his eye caught two people breaking Jack's rule, vanishing into the jungle. Suddenly he didn't care about Jack's stupid rule. He was determined to follow those men.

**(You gotta know your limits with a boombox... This was a cautionary tale- A boombox is _not_ a toy!)**


	8. Jim's Journey

"Hey...Where's Dwight?"

Michael and Jim stopped trying to drown each other and looked around.

"I don't see him," Jim answered with a sigh.

"You think the current pulled him under?" Michael asked, suddenly nervous.

"No, look." Jim pointed. "There's his footprints."

Jim and Michael followed the footprints with their eyes all the way to the jungle's edge.

"I guess he broke the rule." Michael grunted.

"We should go get him," Jim began marching out of the water.

"What?" Michael was startled. "You heard that thing out there, you heard what Jack said! It's dangerous! Dwight will be okay, he lives on a beet farm, for God's sake."

Jim ignored him and jerked on his shoes. Michael came over and stared at him.

"You're really gonna go in there?"

"Yeah," Jim replied. He straightened up and pulled on his T-shirt. He looked at Michael. "Are you coming?"

Michael snorted. "That's what she sa-" He broke off suddenly and shook his head. "I'm telling you, Dwight will be fine, Jim. He's probably just pissing on a tree or something!"

Jim sighed and gave Michael a weary look. "Maybe you're right," He turned away. "But I want to be sure."

Jim walked away towards the jungle. Michael just stood there, watching helplessly as Jim walked into the woods and disappeared behind the trees. Michael shook his head again and went back to the shore to get his shoes and shirt.

Jim lost Dwight's trail as soon as the ground became dirt and leaves. So he stopped staring at the ground, and started paying attention to his surroundings.

The trees were very tall, many of them just inches apart. The leaves spread out into a canopy above him, making the jungle much darker than on the beach. The sunlight filtering down was tinted with green. It gave the jungle an eerie, breathless feeling, as if time was irrelevant. Normal sounds, like the crunching of leaves and sticks underfoot, were muted, while other sounds, such as frogs and birds singing and chirping, were amplified.

Or perhaps it all seems this way to Jim because he was very nervous about that thing in the jungle. But he just had to find Dwight before anything happened to him.

He tiptoed through the woods cautiously, praying silently that he wouldn't get lost.


	9. Door in the Ground

"This was supposed to work..."

Dwight paused at the edge of the clearing, hiding behind a tree. He heard a crash right before he got there, and now he witnessed a wreckage of broken tree limbs and a sort of trebuchet lying scattered amongst the clearing. In the center of the clearing was John Locke and Boone Carlyle. They were hovering around some sort of door in the ground.

"This was supposed to work!" John shouted again, stamping his foot.

"John!" Boone hopped over to the bald man. John looked at him, his face wrinkled with anger and disappointment.

"Your leg, man." Boone muttered.

John looked down at his leg. A shard of wood was embedded deep into his right leg. He reached down to pull it out. Dwight gasped and jumped out into the open.

"Don't touch it!" He cried.

Boone flinched and cursed, shaking his head and whirling savagely at Dwight. "Who the hell are you?"

"He's...he's one of the new guys. Dwight, is it?" John's face grimaced into a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't pull that out. You have to staunch the blood flow first." Dwight stomped over to John, pulling his shirt off as he went. He knelt down beside John's leg. Boone and John Locke exchanged awkward glances.

"Uhh, I think I can take care of it, than-"

"Shh! I have to think! Okay, the point of entry was...here," Dwight mused, pointing at the piece of wood hanging out of John's leg. "Now it seems like it went in at a 34 degree angle, so... If I pull it out like...this-" Dwight ripped the metal free from John's leg and threw it recklessly over his shoulder. Boone dodged instinctively, though the flying hunk of wood had been no where near him.

"Hey! Watch it!" Boone scolded ineffectively.

John watched Dwight curiously. He felt nothing in his leg, and he wondered if the metal had cut a nerve. Dwight bit into the tail of his shirt and ripped upwards, creating a bandage. He wrapped John's leg with expertise. "I had to do this with a deer once," He explained. "It wasn't deer season, so I was out on my beet farm bow-hunting for rabbits. I saw the deer laying in the grass and I could only see her head...I thought it was a rabbit. My gage was a bit off; I stuck her in the thigh. Too bad it wasn't a kill shot... I had to chase her down and pull the arrow out. Those things are expensive."

Boone looked at John and made a wild _"he's crazy" _motion with his hands. John merely smiled.

"Once I took the arrow out, I had to bandage her up so she could go out and find a mate so I could kill her offspring next year." Dwight tied the banadage tight and stood up.

"There," He commented happily. He pulled his torn shirt back over his head. He looked around the clearing as if he was blind to it before. "So what are you two doing out here?"

"Nothing," Boone said quickly.

"Trying to get the hatch open." John answered politely.

"With sticks?" Dwight frowned and went to the hatch door. He tapped on it with his foot. "No way, this door is bullet proof and most likely tripple-thick. Did you really expect that to work?" He looked over his shoulder at Boone and John. Boone cleared his throat but said nothing. John shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess." He said blandly.

"You okay, John?" Boone asked suddenly, looking at John with concern.

"Yep. I'm fine. You're a good doctor, Dwight." John smiled warmly at Dwight.

"Please, I know a lot more about treatment than doctors do." Dwight scoffed.

Jim, who had thought he had gotten hopelessly lost ten minutes ago, followed the sound of Dwight's voice. He stumbled into the clearing, blinking at the sunlight.

"Dwight, why did you run off like that?" Jim demanded. "It's dangerous out here, you heard what that guy sa-"

"His name is Jack." John Locke interupted. "And he thinks the whole world is dangerous, therefore he's never really lived."

Jim stared dumbly at John for a moment before turning back to Dwight.

"Come on, Dwight. Micheal's worried about you." Jim said irritably.

"Micheal? Is he okay?" Dwight went over to Jim.

"Yeah, I'm sure. We were both just freaking out when you disappeared." Jim sighed.

Boone and John stepped beside each other unconsciously. They both stood there and stared at Jim and Dwight as if they had no manners.

"Right." Dwight said decidedly. He turned to John. "Only explosives can get that door open. I can rig you one with gun powder and baby oil, for a price... But first," Dwight looked at Jim. "Lead the way, Jim. Onwards to Micheal!" He raised his fist in the air triumphantly.

Jim sighed. He glanced at John and Boone, who still stood staring at them like idiots. "See you guys on the beach. Be careful out here." He waved slightly, then walked off into the woods with Dwight marching right beside him.

Boone looked at John.

John looked at Boone.

"Explosives?" They smiled.


	10. Rafts and Bombs

Jim and Dwight made it back onto the beach at last. A bunch of the islanders were dragging logs and sheets of plane wreckage to the shore, where they were building a raft. Michael was over there with them, so Jim and Dwight walked over.

Michael Scott was chatting with black Michael, joking about their names.

"Michael." Jim said.

"Yeah?" Both Michael's looked up.

"Oh, uh... Michael Scott." Jim corrected.

Black Michael frowned and walked away. "Come on, Walt."

Walt jumped off of the make-shift raft and ran to catch up with his dad. The golden retriever followed them, barking playfully.

"Hey Jim! You found Dwight!" Michael smiled.

"What are you guys doing?" Jim looked around at the sweaty, sand-covered men hammering wood together and twisting vines into rope.

"They're trying to make a raft," Dwight grunted. "But that's not going to stand up to the waves if they plan on taking it into the ocean."

"Yes, it will." Jack retorted know-it-allishly, sticking his head up from behind the raft. "We're just going to send out a few people at first, to find help. And when they come back-"

"They won't come back! After ten minutes that thing will sink, and their blood will attract sharks, and they'll be eaten!" Dwight snapped back.

"Dwight, shut up." Michael muttered.

"It's going to work! We're going to be rescued!" Jack half-shouted, wanting to be right and also to have the last word.

"Woah now, Doctor Jekyll. Calm down." Sawyer interjected casually, tossing a huge wad of vines onto the raft.

"He says the raft isn't going to work!" Jack burst out childishly, jabbing a finger at Dwight.

"That's because it's-" Dwight began.

"Dwight!" Jim and Michael snapped.

Sawyer looked Dwight up and down before labeling him as an idiot that knew nothing. He went back to work without comment.

"Dwight, why don't you go make your own raft?" Jim suggested.

"I think I will!" Dwight scoffed and walked away.

"Do you guys need some help?" Jim offered once Dwight was out of ear shot.

While Michael and Jim helped Jack, Sawyer, Hurley, Sayid, and a few other losties build on the raft, Boone and John snuck out of the woods and crept over to Sayid.

"Hey, Sayid, can I talk to you real quick?" Boone asked, leaning against the raft, staring up at Sayid.

Sayid looked down at Boone, then glanced at John who stood silently behind him. "Sure," Sayid said cautiously. He hopped down from the raft. "What's up?"

"We need explosives." John told him simply.

"Ah...and since I'm the terrorist that caused the plane to crash, you think I have some more bombs up my sleeves?" Sayid asked, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, pretty much." Boone nodded.

Sayid twitched a smile. He glanced back at the people still working. "Follow me," He told John and Boone in a hushed tone.

The trio walked away together to Sayid's tent.

"I have a few samples that should pack quite a punch. What do you need explosives for?" Sayid asked once they were inside his tent.

John and Boone looked at each other.

"It's kind of a secret." Boone replied.

"We don't want anyone to know about it, yet." John added.

"I will tell no one." Sayid said seriously.

"We found a hatch in the jungle," John began easily. "We need the explosives to open it."

"I see..." Sayid mused. He dug around in a backpack. "How big is this hatch?"

Boone and John both held their arms out, showing how big the hatch was.

"Here." Sayid handed them the backpack. "Just put the bag on the hatch and throw a torch at it. I rigged the bombs to explode simultaneously. Make sure you stand back."

"Thanks, man." Boone took the bag.

"You can come with us, if you want." John offered.

"Perhaps I will." Sayid smiled. "I love a good explosion." He stood up and followed John and Boone back into the jungle.

Dwight, who had been sawing into a tree with a pocket knife, noticed them leaving. He ran over to Jim.

"Jim," He whispered.

"What, Dwight?" Jim grunted, shoving a stick into a tiny slot on the raft.

"Those guys are going back into the jungle, with another guy."

"So?"

"So I heard them talking- they're going to explode the hatch open!" Dwight said excitedly.

"What- now?" Jim turned to Dwight.

"I think so. Come on! Let's go watch." Dwight grinned.

"Okay," Jim stepped down from the raft. "Michael, I'm gonna take a break."

"'K Jim." Michael said quickly. He was acting like he was working, grunting and straining and flexing his muscles over one small log.

Jim figured out why- Kate was standing there. But she wasn't paying much attention to Michael- her eyes were bouncing back and forth between Jack and Sawyer.

Jim and Dwight half-jogged to the edge of the woods, then followed John, Boone, and Sayid's low voices as they made the trek back to the mysterious hatch.


	11. Open Sesame

"What do you think is down there?" Sayid asked as he carefully arranged the bag of explosives onto the hatch lid.

"Well, that's what he want to find out," John Locke replied.

Boone stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes darting around the edge of the clearing nervously.

"Boone," John looked over at Boone.

"Yeah?" Boone stared back.

"Get a torch ready, will you?"

"Yeah. Sure." Boone tore a small branch off a nearby tree and began stripping away the leaves and twigs with a knife.

Meanwhile, Jim and Dwight crept through the woods, smacking at spider-webs and mosquitos. Suddenly, Jim tripped on a root and stumbled through a bush, barely catching himself against a tree.

"Jim!" Dwight hissed.

"What?" Jim scowled.

"Shhhh!" Dwight jammed his index finger against his lips.

Jim shook his head in disbelief and moved on through the woods.

Soon they found the hatch, and Jim and Dwight poked their heads around trees and spied on John, Boone, and Sayid.

Sayid tied off some cables with his teeth, then adjusted the explosives inside the bag until he deemed them ready.

"Okay." He sat up and turned his head, looking at John. "Whenever you're ready."

John nodded shortly, and Sayid stood up and walked over, standing beside him. Boone tore off a piece of cloth from his shirt and wrapped it around the tip of the branch, tying it tight.

"So how come you just happened to have a bag of ready-to-blow explosives lying around?" Boone asked grudgingly.

"I was planning on sabataging the raft before it went out to sea, but..." Sayid shrugged. "Things come up."

"Yeah, right." Boone snorted, jerking a strip of bark from a tree and wrapping it around the cloth on the branch. "Here." He handed the torch to John.

"Thank you, Boone." John said lightly. He fumbled around in his pockets before finding a match, which he struck against his boot. John touched the flame against the torch. The shirt curled and turned black around the edges, before welcoming the fire and becoming engulfed. John dropped the match and crushed it into the dirt with his foot. He stared into the glowing blue and orange flames before looking over at Sayid questioningly.

Sayid glanced around. "Get behind those trees," he ordered, taking the torch from John.

Boone and John slipped wordlessly into the woods, ducking behind various trees.

Jim watched in anticipation, feeling himself begin to sweat. Dwight watched with wide eyes, eagar to see something explode.

Sayid went to the bag of explosives and checked it one last time. He straightened up and stepped back, holding the torch high. He looked back at John and Boone and smiled.

John smiled back, while Boone merely grimaced.

Suddenly, Sayid threw the torch onto the bag and leapt behind a tree.

The explosion shook the very ground, and the shockwave threw everyone back. Smoke belched into the air, thick and black, drifting away beyond the treetops. The fire which had exploded over twenty feet high, was already gone. All that remained of the flames were the bits of ash drifting in the air, and the curling orange leaves hanging from nearby trees.

"Whoooo-hoooo!" Dwight stepped out into the clearing, smacking his hands together and shouting. "That was awesome! I wish Michael had seen that. Don't you think that was awesome, Jim?"

Jim, twitching and blinking as his eyes watered from the smoke, said nothing.

John, Boone, and Sayid walked out into the ashy clearing, staring at Dwight with sour expressions.

"Keep your mouth shut," Boone snapped, grabbing Dwight by the front of his shirt, before shoving him away.

Dwight's eyes lit up with rage. His mouth flapped open and shut as he failed to think up a good come-back.

"Hey!" Jim walked over.

"Boone, calm down," John said calmly. "They're not going to tell anyone."

All eyes focused on the settling smoke.

An invisable line passed between them, and Jim and Dwight walked around one way, while John, Boone, and Sayid walked around the other way. They went to the hatch door, squinting through the haze and ash.

John gasped.

"It's open!" Boone blurted out.

Sure enough, the hatch lid was shattered open.

John reached through the broken glass and found the handle, which he twisted open. The hatch lid glided open with ease.

They moved even closer, staring down into the darkness. Faintly, ever so faintly, they could hear a song playing.


	12. Something New

Desmond sat down at the computer, eyes flicking up at the countdown timer, where the numbers were steadily flipping down to zero. A loud clanging buzzer announced each passing second, and the numbers almost seemed to flip faster as time ran out.

But Desmond wasn't worried. He'd spent the last three years entering the same numbers into the computer every 108 minutes. He'd pretty much perfected it.

His fingers tapped swiftly on the keyboard, entering the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42. Then his pinky finger reached over and automatically pressed in the "Execute" button.

Done with his work, Desmond stood and made his way to the kitchen area, hearing the numbers spin and reverse themselves, going back to 108.

Desmond sat down at the table with a cup of coffee, and lifted the mug to his lips. He inhailed the warm steam, feeling his mouth whell up with anticipation. But before he could take the first sip, an explosion rocked his world.

Like a startled rabbit, Desmond jumped out of his seat, flinging the mug to the floor, where it shattered.

"Bloody hell," he hissed, shaking the scalding liquid off of his hand. He rushed into the living area where he shut off the music. His wide eyes scanned the room, while his ears strained to listen.

Suddenly he ran, sprinting across the room to where there was a sort of telescope connected to mirrors. He grabbed the telescope and stared into it, and the mirrors placed in various corners of rooms and hallways allowed him to see all the way to the hatch entrance.

When he saw five faces peering down into his home, Desmond gasped. Why weren't they wearing masks? He wondered. What about the sickness?

Desmond grabbed a pistol from a nearby table and pulled a shotgun from the wall in the armory. He shoved the pistol in the back of his pants and slung the shotgun strap over his shoulder. He shut the armory and snuck back over to the telescope, where he took a deep breath.

There was only one way in the hatch, and one way out. Now that that way was blocked, Desmond felt like a caged dog. He could either back up and cower in a corner, or bare his fangs and fight.

He pushed the hair from his eyes and stared fiercely into the telescope, watching his enemies who were so foolishly trying to invade in broad daylight. His hand found the gun strap on his chest, where he fingered the leather fondly. A half-crazy smile twitched on his lips.


End file.
